Tales From The Road

They sat by a fire in the Caballo Mountains. She roasted pork chops. Her face flush from the fire. Sweat glistened on her brow.

He watched her. Her jeans, dirty from the dusty road. Her pale white cotton shirt smelt of fire, blood and sand.

She gave him a look. He broke into a cragged smile. Born from the mountains and long roads.

Local poet/writer. ‘There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self.’ E. Hemingway. All ©️DMM

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Local poet/writer. ‘There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self.’ E. Hemingway. All ©️DMM

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